


Casual

by AdamantSteve



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fuckbuddies, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:38:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Phil, fuckbuddies</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casual

**Author's Note:**

> apropos of nothing and ignoring my 25 (yes, 25) WIPs I wrote this after Clint/Coulson Fic Finders posted a list of fuckbuddy stories and I was inspired.
> 
> beta read by Dunicha

 

 

"Oh you want it like that, huh?" Phil asks, running a fingernail up the sole of Clint's foot to make it jerk as he moves to the dresser to procure lube and the last condom from a box of twelve. Clint bunches a pillow under his folded arms and watches him root through the drawer with a lazy grin on his face, scratching one foot with the other. "Yep," he says, pretty pleased with himself, and Phil chuckles as he tosses his finds on the bed and bends to peel his socks off.

 

"Gonna make me do all the work like usual," he grumbles, and Clint laughs when Phil drops to the bed beside him making the tube of lube bounce. 

"You love doing all the work."

 

Phil doesn't deny it, just moves around to Clint's naked ass and slicks him up pretty unceremoniously. They're not here to take their time, just here to get each other off, an arrangement that's been working well enough for quite some time.

 

"God, your ass is amazing," Phil murmurs, and Clint does something to make it bounce without really moving the rest of his body.

"Did you just _twerk_?" Phil asks, incredulous. 

Clint shifts around, laughing til he's curved over and looking at Phil. "Did you just say -"

"I know what twerking is, Clint." 

 

Clint giggles and rubs his eye before shaking his head at him. Phil sits on his haunches and waits for him to stop, pretending to be pissed at Clint for laughing at him. 

"Let me suck your dick," Clint says eventually, moving again to pull Phil close and push him toward the head of the bed.

 

Phil goes easily, leaning back on the remaining pillows and then melting into them as Clint sucks on his cock. He's so good at it, like he's glad of the opportunity to practice his skills, but it's never clinical or cold, it's just _great_. 

 

His shoulders are broad and perfect, and Phil runs his hands over them as Clint moves, breaking off from sucking his dick to nip and lick at what of Phil's balls he can get to. "Hairy ass balls," he gripes, and Phil flicks him on the ear. "Ow!" Clint cries, leaning back to glare at him in mock outrage. 

"I trimmed after you bitched about it the last time!"

Clint sticks out his tongue and then slowly moves back to lick once at the tip of Phil's dick again before Phil pushes him backwards.

 

They rearrange themselves so that Clint's laying on his back with Phil fingering him open again, Clint languidly stroking his cock and watching him do it. 

"You just like watching me work, don't you?" Phil asks, and Clint laughs again, cutting off to a little gasp when Phil presses his prostate. 

"You're so mean," he says, but he's grinning as he says it. "Are you gonna fuck me or what?" 

"What am I, a plumber or something?" 

Clint looks confused and Phil sort of shrugs. "You just call me up and put me to work."

"Get you to lay some pipe?" Clint smirks, and Phil rolls his eyes at the accidental pun he set up and Clint nudges him with a toe to his ribs. "C'mon," he whines. "Get with the dicking."

 

Phil has to root around before finding the condom packet stuck to Clint's side and then slides it on, lining up and pushing into Clint's tight ass.

 

They're not here to get all clingy and gaspy, but it doesn't take long for Clint to be pulling Phil down over him, arms tight around his shoulders and the both of them gasping into the other's neck. For all their snark and the way they jerk each other around, they're really good at this; the two of them working so perfectly well to get into a satisfying rhythm of push and pull, give and take. 

 

Between thrusts, when Clint's able to get enough air into his lungs before Phil pushes it back out again, he huffs into his neck a litany of dirty filth that Phil tries to return in kind.

"Taking your big cock-"

"Fucking your ass-"

"Making me take it-"

"You fucking need it-" 

"Split me open-"

"So tight-"

"Yeah-"

"Yes-"

"Fuck-"

"God-"

"Yeah- yeah- yes-!"

 

And then it devolves into yesses back and forth and then approximations of words and then just sounds and mewls and little animalistic grunts as one or both of them comes, usually Phil first, easing out to suck Clint off for his trouble, though sometimes he comes between them by his own hand, tensing around Phil's dick like he's trying to milk him dry. 

 

Afterwards they lie side by side, staring at the ceiling of wherever they are this time, til Clint rolls away to find something to clean up with. That had surprised Phil, actually, how fastidious Clint was about everything; he'd assumed he'd be the dirty t-shirt off the floor kind of guy but Clint comes back with a wetted flannel and a soft, dry towel and he's cleaned himself up already. 

 

"That was good," Phil says, stretching out on the bed and wiping himself with the flannel where his cock is still wet with cum, drying off afterwards and handing the towels back to Clint along with the tied off condom he hears him toss in the trash as he pads back to the bathroom. When he comes back again he plucks the condom wrapper from the covers before laying beside Phil. "It _was_ good," he agrees, piecing the torn foil back together above him like a tiny jigsaw puzzle. Phil resists the urge to roll closer and tuck an arm around Clint; he ought to go soon anyway. 

 

Clint scrunches the wrapper into a ball and tosses it, neither of them having to look to know it went wherever it was meant to. "That was the last one," Phil notes, nodding in the direction the wrapper disappeared in. Clint takes a deep breath, just a long inhale followed by a long exhale, staring at the ceiling before rolling to his side to look at Phil. 

 

"Not that I'm stalking you or anything," he starts, and Phil quirks his lips at that opener, ignoring the sting of concern that this is going to head in the 'we shouldn't do this anymore' direction. "Good to know," he says. 

 

Clint smiles, concentrating on his warm fingers where they're gently tracing the jut of Phil's hip bone. "Just that you're not seeing anyone else, right?" 

"No?" Phil answers hesitantly, because, well, this is just a casual thing, but if Clint wanted to see where else it could go...

"Well neither am I," he says, eyes flicking up to look at Phil's and as much as he tries not to, a smile grows on his face that is probably jumping the gun.

"So If you wanted..." Phil gets ready to say yes, sure, let's date, whatever. "We could do it without one next time. Bareback."

The smile falters, and Phil laughs through his nose instead. "Sure," he says, something akin but not quite the same as disappointment settling in his blood, "if you want."  

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, Phil :/ xoxo you'll end up together in the end, you always do xxx


End file.
